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  • Old Guild Username: Elendra
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    1. Elendra 11 yrs ago

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Jorick said
Probably without a wall and with monsters spawning all over our stuff.

We could probably manage, but it would be annoying.


Best response possible
Awson said If we did reset, it would be cool to go full faction mode. Two balanced teams specifically.


I can't express in clear enough terms how much I don't want that to happen. I'd rather no factions than that.

I like factions as basically being a second level of whitelisting.

I don't play minecraft for PvP. If the server becomes PvP based then I'm out. ( I know, such a huge threat, how would you get on without me? D: )
Intermission; Abida and Draza

Draza was up, right early as usual. The sun had not even begun to rise over the horizon when she was getting dressed and heading to the rather fanciful kitchens of the Renaltan Royal Castle. She had not seen such selection of ingredients and finery in appliances than even in her time in the papal castles of Rheinfeld. Perhaps their still conservative nature didn’t make them as open to these new experiences and flavours, or their less than friendly tolerant nature didn’t lend them to gaining such taste of spice.

But here, in Renalta, it was like being a fae in a candy store. Befriending the kitchen staff had been a top priority, and using her rank and kindness to do so seemed to be rather easy. It was almost like they never had someone cook for them for once, judging by their reactions. But that’d be silly, who wouldn’t cook these marvelous chefs and cooks and servants a meal in thanks once in a while? Draza scoffed at the notion of thanklessness in such a kind place, and went about her business, going through the assortments of flours and sugars for her baking this morning, smiles and greetings with waves to the others there, and a flower for each of them in thanks and payment for her use of the facility. She didn’t have to pay them anything, but a kindness was a great tip.

As the small sprite rounded a corner into another passageway on the route towards the kitchens, Abida stepped out from the wall. It seemed the servants she had asked had been correct about the sprite’s routine. Bowing her head, Abida addressed the woman. “Fair morning. I was told I might be able to find you here.” Giving a small smile, she continued, “It seems they were correct.”

Draza eeped, dropping her handful of ingredients back into their bags, turning around to the surprise guest. Abida, the not so very nice girl who did the thing to her arm that made it hurt and, “Oh, fair morning to you as well, who were correct?”

“Some servants,” she answered with a dismissive flick of her hand. “They find it easy to remember encounters with the highly generous sprite.” Looking at the sprite, she saw the wide eyes and hastily filled bags. Getting down onto one knee, she bowed her head once more. “I did not mean to frighten you, little one. I sought you out to apologize for my actions in Arian.”

“Oh,” Draza said, her voice small and face partially downcast, before her face lit up bright, “I’m so glad you came here to do that, I mean, not that I thought you had to, but I do really appreciate it.” She looked up at Abida, who even on one knee and bowing was taller than her, and with her lips pursed together in a quick musing, she quickly bounced forward and wrapped as much of the woman as she could in her little arms, giving her a hug before almost bouncing back in a quick rebound. “You’re forgiven, immediately and without any ill will from myself to you,” Draza said, matter-of-factly, and nodded with conviction before turning back with a grin to her work.

Abida stood quickly after the sprite had let go, surprised by the innocent earnesty. “Thank you,” she said, “I am Abida Qisaf of the Free Holds, and I believe the servants said your name was Durza?”

Draza set aside as much of the bag as she could carry into a measuring cup, pirouetting over from it to face Abida once more, doing a curtsy before offering her hand and wrist for a shake, the hand caked in flour, “Draza, actually. Draza Zorya of the Rheinfeld Republic, former Templar, former Papacy diplomat, now and forever a friend.”

The elf had to stoop to reach the sprite’s hand, deciding it was better to get flour on her hand than reject the offered shake. “Former? Do you no longer consider yourself a part of your life before the Blades?”

“Oh, heavens no, not that. I mean, I was once a Templar, years ago, and then I was a diplomat for the Papacy… years ago. They were phases of my life, maybe, but they were things I did, not who I was,” Draza tries to clarify, talking over her shoulder as she continued to try to do some of her baking even if interrupted. The cookies weren’t going to make themselves, were they? No. She’s not magic. Magic cookies would be nice, but she didn’t have that knack. “More recently I was a politician in the Republic, and well, my heart will always belong to my family and people, I’m now part of something bigger, and the whole world is my family and people now. So many people to help, so many smiles to raise and all!”

Abida’s face grew sad at the sprite’s enthusiasm. “I fear there shall not be many smiles on the path ahead of us, little one. And many who will be beyond our help.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “Do not burden yourself with such mighty tasks. You seem like one to take failure close to heart.”

“Lady Qisaf? If you don’t mind me saying, but nerts to that attitude,” she said, stopping from her work, her tone oddly contrasting her face, “I’ve served in with the Templars, I’ve seen friends who were as family to me die protecting those they love from things dark and wicked. I’ve been so close to death myself already many times before. Smiling is a far better approach to fate than letting it crush you. If all I do is make the people around me able to smile, then I’ve done good. I can’t save people like you can, like others can. We were lucky, that you were skilled, that Meryl was as she was, that things happened as they did because none at our tower died. Because unlike others, I can’t save lives from danger like that. But if I can make surviving better…” she sighed, and continued back to her work after the interruption of passion, “Then I’ve done good. We all save lives in our own ways.”

”You may be right,” Abida allowed, “I hope you are. It is a grim world that relies on steel and blood.” She paused to rub at the tattoo’s by her eyes. “And I am no Lady, though I admit I am flattered by the mistake.” With one final bow she turned away. “At the ball then, Draza.”

“Have the most pleasant of times from now till then and forever more, Lady Qisaf,” Draza said, emphasising the title in hopes of imparting the importance of it upon Abida despite her insistence contrary.
Intermission; Draza and Townsfolk

It had been an interesting morning, to say the least. Draza was fortunate that one of those from her time in Arian had come to her personally to apologize about even their slightest of misgivings and behaviours, and that immediately set her day off to a rollicking good start. But now, she had a cart paid for, and cookies and pies and cakes and breads and sweltered meat that glistened in its own juice and honeyed exterior.

Just on her journey through the streets, a small selection of pickpockets had tried their hand at her wares without her permission, and one by one she called them out as they passed, and gave them a larger share of the goods as a gift from the Queens, not from herself. This food was on her coin and their luxury and if anyone could do with a brightening of a day it was the people in some of the poorer parts of town, and anyone with more loyalty right now it’d be the Queens. Love like this could not hurt.

Eventually her cart and carriage took her down along a block of houses, interwoven through porches and patios that linked them across streets. There was some bustle and the sound of hammers upon nails and saws through wood, and children playing underfoot. Streamers of colour hung above, and Draza had been behind enough parties to know what was going on.

Moving slowly still into the neighbourhood, Draza stood up upon her ride and took out her lute in preparation, “Hark, dear friends around, do I hear this sound? Children play and bound, mayhap party found?”

From above in the work upon the project, a dwarven man with a long beard even for his stature spoke down in a sweet bass, “What ho, fae on ground,” Draza blinked at the continued rhyme and consistent metre, as the dwarf turned to the others and gestured down to her, “Company inbound.”

Draza’s face was wide as her smile stretched her cheeks, her fingers strummed across the lute, “Company inquire, dwarven name and task!”

Another dwarf, younger looking than the first took a spot beside the first, “Foreigner admire, in Yrdrir clan bask.” The older one picks up the line there, “Workshop and choir, for the rest you ask.”

Oh. Oh this street and block were just the thing for Draza’s day. Oh yes oh yes this shall be fun. Her fingers strummed a quick dit across before she asked in singsong, “Have you fair reason, to work with good cheer?”

“Granmere’s pleasin, her sixty-eighth year,” answered a third dwarf from above. A clan of them indeed. “Oooooh, for a birthday?” Draza almost squealed with delight. “Verily,” “T’is,” “Yea,” each of the three present responded in metre.

Draza’s day had some plans originally, but they had changed. She’d still be giving all she’s got, but she’d make haste in doing so to learn the lay of the town, the wants of the people… and exchange coin for goods to make it a feast for the streets, and those neighboring, and all over. Granmere was an elderly human, beloved by the region, and her coffers on their company would do them well. With singing dwarves and a crew of children who called themselves the Jaloret boys, and many more from near and far… she’d make this birthday one to remember, and everyone a bit happier.
Intermission; Zin and Draza

Draza wiped sweat from her brow, the heat of the kitchen still enveloped her even after she had left it again for maybe the last time this night. The Aldenais family were grateful to have someone like her be here for Granmere’s 68th birthday, to help put together such a magical occasion for one who was so old for her kind. Everyone from earlier that could be there, was there. The Jaloret kids from down the street, with the dirt and chocolate smeared on their faces from their games and sweets; the Ydrir Clan, so stout as Dwarves, but so kind and voices that felt like they could lift Draza up off her feet when they sung.

The interlocked buildings and homes were lined with lights, and laced with sweet scents as the handiwork of a community made the night good for everyone, drinks flowed and food passed round tables and there was merriment in the evening air. There were few thank yous for her now, so many were engaged in friends, family, neighbour, strangers and new friends to pay her much mind. She’d already gotten all the thanks she needed, in the joy she had a hand in catering to.

Today was a good day.

Based on the light and sound emitting from the building, Zin was sure she’d found the right place. The sprite was well known around Renalta, she had found earlier in the evening, and it hadn’t taken long to find someone who knew about this night’s birthday party. Rather than trying to make her way through the main body of the festivities, Zin headed around the building and was pleased to see a back door that let out onto a porch. There was a fairly spacious patio, and a stage farther out, but she couldn’t see anything in particular going on there at the moment.

Zin made her way out into the light with her hood down, putting on a friendly smile like she used when dealing with customers at the textiles store she worked at. Tonight her eyes were disguised, blue rather than the silver of her vampiric heritage, thanks to illusion magic. Nobody seemed to pay Zin any great mind until she walked up onto the porch, where a grey-bearded fellow greeted her. She returned the greeting and asked where she could find Draza, and the dwarven man gestured toward the door with some mention of cooking. Zin thanked him and headed on inside, glad she’d been able to get through the party so easily.

It was readily apparent that cooking was indeed happening in the kitchen. The place wasn’t exactly a mess, but it had seen a lot of use this evening. The sprite was nowhere to be found in the room, however, so Zin walked through it to a doorway on the other side. She felt rather at ease walking through a stranger’s home, thanks to her night time hobby of breaking and entering for her own amusement. Through the door was a dining area, and there she found Draza sitting and apparently relaxing amongst many others in the area.

Zin made her way through the room with some minor difficulty, thanks to the people who seemed hard pressed to stay in one place for long, but eventually she ended up near Draza. She waved at the sprite and smiled. “Uh, hi. I’m one of the Queen’s Blades who was at Arian.”

Draza was presently engaged in a pleasant conversation with one of the townspeople, but at the wave, she held up a hand to the one she was listening to and apologized quickly, saying that it was probably something important and she hoped that they enjoyed the party while she dealt with it. Hopping up and over, Draza quietly tugged at Zin’s garments near her shins, “Let’s talk outside? Don’t want to interrupt the festivities with Blade business!” she spoke chipper as she started off to the back door and past the kindly dwarves.

The sprite was off and away before Zin could clarify that it wasn’t actually anything important or businesslike. There was nothing to do but follow, so she followed along and made the return trip through the mass of dwarves that seemed to be everywhere at once, Keeping up with Draza as best she could.

Draza led the way down to a secondary porch that connected to the stage and first one through a set of stairs, hanging over an alleyway where the sounds of children and their games could be heard. She took a seat on a chair, scrambling to climb up and into it fast and without much goofiness in her efforts to do so; a chair beside it available for Zin as well. Settling into her spot, and huffing a tired sigh out, she turned with a still vibrant smile to Zin, “So, Blade talk! What herald are you for me tonight? Good tidings, or ill?”

Zin took the open seat and sat silently for a few moments, trying to decide on an answer to that. “I don’t think I herald anything. I haven’t got any tidings. Um, I just heard that you managed to get through Arian without fighting and without anyone.. passing.” Her voice quavered as she said the word, and she was clearly uncomfortable with even the euphemism for death. “I was impressed and intrigued, so I decided to seek you and and maybe find out if you had any, er, wisdom to impart? It sounds silly, I know, but I desperately wish to avoid fighting in the future, and I think I might have made a mistake joining the Blades and now I’m sort of grasping at straws here.” Zin coughed and looked away. “Sorry for rambling.”

Draza nodded along politely, letting Zin say her piece before speaking up, smiling comfortingly, “Weeeeeeeell,” she let the word lull as it slipped through her lips, “I don’t know what to tell you. I would say I was far more lucky that no one died and that I didn’t have to… well, no, that’s not true. I did fight, just non-violently. I mean, hrm,” she sighed and pouted in thought, “Well, I threw a cookie at someone, but that was the extent of my violence. A cookie I could only have safely thrown because others were violent in my defense. Even if they didn’t necessarily want to do it for me.” Draza sighed at that, “There’s really only two scenarios where you can get by without violence; you’re either in control, or you’re lucky as all get out… and I wasn’t in control. I was lucky.”

“Oh.” Zin sighed and ran a hand through her short blonde hair. “I was afraid you’d just say something about luck. I thought that might be the only answer, but I suppose being in control of a situation would make avoiding violence easy too. I’ve just been so, I don’t know, worried about the future I guess. Worried about dying and losing friends and companions and seeing bad things happen to people. I haven’t been thinking very clearly lately.”

Zin sighed again, this time followed by an apologetic smile for Draza. “I’m sorry, I just met you and I’m pouring my heart out to you, haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Zin, and I’m a bloody mess at the moment.” She held out her hand and realized only after it was already out there that a sprite probably couldn’t manage much of a handshake.

Not that that bothered Draza much. She scooted over and took the hand in both of hers, and shook it, bowing her head as she did so, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Lady Zin, I’m Draza,” she stopped and let go of the hand, “As you knew.” She paused with her lips pursed before breaking into a grin again despite herself, perhaps not the best time to be doing so, but maybe it’d be infectious? “Don’t pay any bother to pouring your heart out. Sometimes you need to clear out that old thing. Also, if you’re worried about luck, don’t be.” Draza slid back into the chair more, stretching her legs, before shifting back to the edge so they dangled, “People can make luck, it’s not like it’s just a thing that comes from on high. We’ve banished gods before. This Blade’s business may suck but we’ll get through it well enough in the end. The journey may suck, but the destination will be a better world for it.”

It wasn’t quite a grin, but Draza’s words managed to pull a pleasant smile from Zin. “I suppose you’re right. Maybe I’ve just been letting my fears pile up for too long without airing them out. When you look at it like that, that the gods were banished not that long ago, well, I guess dealing with some demons doesn’t seem quite so bad.”

Zin gave the sprite an appraising look. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re extraordinarily easy to talk to? I feel like you must be using some kind of magic on me. A few moments ago I was a nervous wreck, and now I’m calm. Are you some kind of evil sorceress, toying with my emotions?” Her joking tone made it clear she was not actually accusing Draza of magically manipulating her, but there was still a bit of suspicion in her eyes.

“Evil? No, no gods no, not evil… but, otherwise…” she let the sentence trail on as she looked about as guilty as she could force herself to. “But seriously, I’ve got no aptitude with magical arts. Baking, fine print, toy making? Those I can do. Magic? I sure may be a fae, but no way not today.”

Zin laughed, partly at the sprite screwing her face up to look sinister and partly at the silly rhyming. “I see. Well, that puts my mind at ease on that count. Truth be told, I’m kind of the opposite; I’m an atrocious cook and I have no idea how to even begin making toys, but I know some magic.” She waved a hand in front of her face and her illusion was gone, revealing her silver eyes. “Illusions are my specialty.” Zin paused, realizing what she’d done. “And, uh, I’m also a vampire. That’s almost the opposite of a witch, right?”

Draza almost said something, but caught the words in her mouth as her cheeks inflated from the air escaping making it so she visibly caught the word before it left her lips, and swallowed it. She really didn’t want to mention her time in relation to witches and vampires, namely the accompanying of Templars who hunted down and killed them. And so she didn’t. Trying to smooth things over, she thought up a little lie for her face and response, “Don’t think I’d be the one to ask that, and I’ll be honest, it’ll be nice to have an illusionist on our side after… well, anyway.” Actually, that wasn’t that good a place to step into conversationally either. Awkward.

Though she was quite curious about the hedging answer, Zin had enough social grace to allow Draza to avoid whatever it was she was avoiding talking about. “I hope I can be of use, yes. Unfortunately I haven’t found a whole lot of practically useful illusion spells I can manage yet, other than the one I use to hide my eyes. I’ve been told I have a gift for casting illusion spells, but actually finding spells that would be useful for something other than a party trick seems to be a challenge.” She shrugged. “I’m also learning some healing, so at least I’ll have that even if I never figure out what to do with illusions.”

“Well, illusions are good for giving yourself control, actually,” Draza began, “You can make threats of violence with forces that aren’t… real, or even make them think they’re being attacked. Corner, defeat, no actual battle, no actual harm?” Or at least, that’s how Draza thought illusion magic would work in that scenario. She thought Meryl’s things were illusions, but they did real damage… or were they just mixed in with illusions? Illusions are confusing.

“I tried that with some fire before, but it didn’t seem to do much. Maybe I’m just not strong enough yet to take control with illusions, maybe it’s too easy to tell that my illusions aren’t real.” Zin shrugged. “More study and practice should help. Anyway, I’m surprised that you’re not a magic user. I thought all of the fae were supposed to, I don’t know, depend on magic to live? Or is that just the stuff of stories?”

“There’s probably magic pumping in me, my family insists that there is, but I’ve got no way to tap into it if I did. No talent, natural or otherwise, plus… well, I grew up in Rheinfeld,” she said, thinking and hoping that’d explain enough of her lack of magic for Zin.

It did indeed, and Zin nodded slowly. “I grew up in Liveria. They’re not as bad about magic, but about vampires and the like, well…” Zin laughed, though it didn’t contain much merriment or humor. “I was very lucky that my family just exiled me when they found out rather doing worse. Avoiding magic seems like a smart thing to do in Rheinfeld, for similar reasons as those in Liveria tend to avoid my kind.”

“Well,” Draza smirked just a wee bit, “And you know what else is a hopeful future? Save the world, and maybe they’ll stop hating on those bits of ourselves and people in general.”

Zin shrugged. “Perhaps. I have my doubts, but anything can happen.” A bemused smile crept onto her face. “I would love to see such a future. A world where the people of Rheinfeld and Liveria learn to accept mages and vampires and everything in between would be a marvelous place. I would be able to go home in such a world.” Zin sighed, shaking her head a bit. “But for now, perhaps a less bittersweet topic would be nice. Have you made any preparations for the upcoming ball? I fear I’ve no idea what to wear, and I’m running out of time to get something new made.”

“You should check out another within our company, who enjoys her solace as well. Lady, erm,” Draza catches herself, going to the preferred name of the woman, “Alicia has fine connections to silk and tailoring through her manservant’s craftsmanship. She’s gotten him through contract with me to make a dress for the ball that fits me daintiness. What more,” she tries to lean in as if giving a bit of a secret, but it makes little difference with her stature, “Jacque’s tailoring is haste without waste, he could have you something fine before the gala ball.”

“Ah, I don’t know if I could do that. I don’t doubt the man’s skill, and surely he’ll do fine work on your gown, but…” Zin trailed off, shrugging again. “I don’t think I could trust a new person to do an important task like this on short notice. I like to think I’m cautious, but others have called me a creature of habit. I would have to go to one of the women I’ve contracted with good results in the past, I think.”

She smiled at Draza though, a genuinely warm expression. “Thank you for the reference. I’ll certainly pursue it, but not for this particular job. Tell me though, what sort of dress are you having made? Perhaps yours will give me some inspiration on what to wear, as I currently lack even the faintest hint of a plan.”

“I’m not sure what the official nomenclature of my garb would be, but the lady and I have taken to calling it a ‘safety dress’,” Draza began, “See, there’s an under more form fitting and ease of movement dress, stylish in its own right but not befitting of such an event, and sewn in with frail seams is the over dress, flowing and regal and truly kissed with grace. If things go well, I represent the Blades proud, and if the manure hits the aqueduct, well, safety dress!” she echoed her sentiments from before.

Zin laughed, shaking her head a bit. “I’ve never heard of such a thing before, but it sounds like a fine idea. I think this idea could become very popular, if it were to spread. There have been quite a few times such a safety dress would have come in handy for me in the past.” She counted them off, lifting a finger for each one. “A torn seam at my sister’s birthday event, once I was splashed with mud by a passing carriage and had to suffer with a dirtied dress through the night, another time a fellow carrying the wine tripped and threw quite a bit of it at myself and a few other ladies, all the times I’ve clumsily dropped food or dribbled drink on myself, the time I fell and torn the front of my skirt all the way up to my knees…” Zin trailed off with another laugh. “And many more, I assure you. It feels like half the time I’ve put on a fancy dress something awful happens to it. I hope this ball will be one of the other half, else I may as well go dressed in trousers.”

Draza giggled sheepish at that, “Well, with the importance of things, and the variety there… maybe you could sneak trousers in and be fine. There’s definitely cultures that would respect it going to be present. Your comfortable best will likely be good enough.”

“Maybe so, but what would the queens-” Zin cut herself off, remembering what she knew and had seen of Queen Alex. “Rather, what would Queen Kouri think of that? I imagine she wants her Blades to look their best at this event, since it’s so important. I feel like a nice dress is almost mandatory.”

“Perhaps,” Draza said, wondering why Zin corrected from queens to just Kouri, “But if you’re going to be uncomfortable and risk such clumsiness, I don’t think you’d be looking your best and doing yourself, the dignitaries, or the group honour.”

“Then I suppose I’ll just have to be careful and hope for luck.” Zin thought for a moment. “And perhaps I’ll make some luck of my own, while I’m at it. I just thought of another practical use for illusions, if only I can find or create the proper spell for it. If I can change the color of my eyes, surely hiding a stain would be no trouble at all.”

“Now that’s a proper use of your noggin and magical knack, if I ever heard one. Not flashy, but great, practical,” Draza said, “I like it.”

“I feel like I’m well on my way to becoming a master illusionist.” Zin chuckled at her own nonsense. “Do you have any plans for the ball itself? I’ve heard there are going to be representatives from all over the world in attendance.”

“Make connections, check up on my homeland through dignitaries, and try to test the political waters between everyone. I’m so used to just worrying about, or rather,” she corrects herself, “Primarily worrying about my homeland, but now with the blades… I should make efforts to help everyone more overtly. It’s my job now, you know?”

“I agree, we’re out to help everyone, not just our homelands. I was thinking of doing much the same, trying to make contact with as many people as possible and building a good reputation for the Blades. I was initially thinking of avoiding those from Liveria and Rheinfeld, but perhaps I’ll just hide my eyes and see if they can tell what I am.” Zin grinned and got a mischievous look in her eyes. “It would be quite a lot of fun to have good rapport with them before they learn that I’m a vampire. That would make for a bit of a shock, I think.”

Draza was stuck between childish giggling and serious consideration, and so she did both, stopping her laugh only to comment “It may be best to either be candid or closeted, I feel something in the middle may only bring ire… but if they do see through the illusion, it may be best to have just been candid.” She shrugged, “There shouldn’t be any real troubles from either, I think, but I can’t be the most…. well, the best at this. I can hide any magic that may be in my veins more than your doubling up on the err in your blood.”

Zin nodded. “You’re probably right. Better to hide it completely or to not hide it at all. It would better for the Blades if I don’t play games with any of the important people at the ball.” She shrugged with one shoulder. “Truth be told, I probably wouldn’t have gone through with it anyway, though your advice is good regardless. It’s an amusing thought, but I’m far too cautious to risk nasty responses from such a trick. I think I’ll simply hide my eyes and my nature at the ball, to avoid causing any ill will for the Blades by my association.” Zin passed a hand over her eyes again, and this time they were green when she was done. “Though of course that means I’ll have to choose which shade of eyes will best fit whatever dress I wear for the night. I envy women who lack this particular choice of accessory.”

And they chatted and giggled about clothes and other nonsense long into the night, until they ended up joining the party for a bit. Zin was uncomfortable about it, and eventually made her leave while Draza stayed behind with new friends for a late night of fun.
Intermission; Draza and Alicia

The ball was coming up, and while Draza certainly had an assortment of fine dresses for such an occasion, not all of them were exactly available to her. She knew that she was going to be going on some journeys, and helping out with these Queens’ Blades, but royal galas? That was… an unexpected addition to things. One that she didn’t really pack for. Specifically for a gala of such scope, one she hadn’t done since her days with the Papacy.

Now, she certainly could have sent a request for some more of her things from the Republic to be shipped, but that would be both expensive and perhaps untimely, the journey not necessarily safe from both humans and monsters. No, she had to get something here that was suitable for the event. Besides, maybe she could get something in a style or comfort unlike her other outfits.

She was not fully familiar with everyone in her newly acquired companionship, but she did recall something of one of them having relations with silk traders and the like. It would be a good first step to making more friendships internally, specifically after the whole event at the western tower that had made quite a few think of her less than she’d like. At worst, she’d be turned down, and have to go shopping on her own, and at best? Friendship! She liked those odds.

With a skip in her step, she went to the quarters she had inquired about, those of Alicia, and knocked upon her door, her knuckles rapping lightly against it as she spoke up, “Hello?”

The sound of rapping against wood was enough to stir Alicia from her reading. She had been examining a letter from one of her silk merchants. She wasn’t expecting any guests, nor was she expecting Jacque to return any time soon: he had brought her bottled dinner already, so that wasn’t it either.

With no understanding as to why she was being disturbed in this time, she was left with no more options than to go over to the door itself. She decided to retrieve a small dagger, just in case this was an assailant. Stalking over to the door in her casual dress, she decided to slowly open the door a crack, peeking out to see if there was an enemy at the doors. Instead, she only saw nothing-ness.

Confused, she decided to open the door fully and only then saw the tiny creature at her door. “Um...hello?”


Draza’s sharp eyes caught sight of the dagger, but she made no note of it otherwise, presuming it was just a precaution meant for intruders, not for her. “Yes, hello there, sorry to interrupt! Erm,” Draza timidly scuffed her foot against the ground, her hands clasped behind her and eyes averted, “So I heard that you have like, silk. So I was wondering if… you could help me get a dress of my size for the ball?” She turned her gaze back up, and flashed an innocent little smile, “Please?”

“You heard that I ‘like’ silk?” Alicia looked at the small fairy woman with a small grin forming on her face. She placed the dagger at her side, away from the tiny creature and move out of the way of the open door. “Come on in then, I suppose. What is your name?”

“No, that you erm,” Draza huffed impotently to herself. She righted her stance, and curtsied, “Thank you for your invitation into your chambers, I’m Draza Zorya.” Taking the invitation more fully, she stepped inside, “And you’re Lady Le’roux, am I correct? It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintanceship.”

“I’m not sure if I should be honoured or horrified that my name is spreading around the camp. Still, it is a pleasure to meet you as well, Draza Zorya. Please call me Alicia though; my family’s name is no way to address me in such a casual meeting.” She gently pushed the door shut behind the small lady, hoping to preserve at least some privacy for the conversation to come. “So you come to me, seeking a dress. I can’t fault you on your taste, although I am curious to know how you intend to pay me. I certainly don’t know you well enough to make a dress for free.” Alicia walked over to the desk, the Liverian noble folding up a number of letters, as well as gently pushing a red glass towards the back of the desk, away from focus.

Draza’s eyes went wide at the comment on the dress and price, “Oh no, Lady Alicia, I did not mean to imply that I sought one from you for free,” she bowed her head low, “I apologize for my failure in clarity, I will of course pay for the dress in full. I have money from my work as an aide and diplomat and I will get it changed to the currency that suits your fancy, if need be, in advanced.”

Alicia looked at the smaller woman, and then she smiled. “Not to be worried, Draza: I won’t fleece you of your funds. How about we agree on a small cash prize, based on how you like the dress?” She was smiling at the prospect, because she was going to gain a lot if this worked out well. For one, she would gain a small amount of income, and then there was the fact that her dress would be seen in the ball itself, and finally, she might make an ally out of nowhere. “No, to pay me for the work, how about we agree to you owing me…” She pauses, as if trying to figure out her terms. “...two small favours, to be called upon at my own time and pace...”

Favours, those were not exactly a safe nor sane manner of barter. Money, you always knew the value of. Bartered goods? Sometimes the value’s not clear. Favours? Those… were tricky. Sometimes worth far more than you would think. “It wouldn’t be fleecing to trade coin for silken fleece. Besides, favours make me uneasy.”

”A shame”, she thought, although her compatriots judicious nature was refreshing: if only because it showed some wisdom. “One favour then. I assured you, it will be nothing drastic: we can even include a ‘get out’ clause, if you so desire. Should I impose a favour too steep, you can opt out for a small monetary amount, to be sure. I will be honest with you, lady Draza, I simply don’t require the money at the moment, is all. It is only my time I seek to reimburse.” She offered the fairy another smile, before a thought came over her. “I forgot to ask, do you want a drink? By all the banished gods, I must appear to be a terrible host.”

“I appreciate the offer, you are being more than gracious a host for me, to have interrupted you. If you have sweetened milk or tea and honey I’d be more than glad to drink with you while we… work out the specifics?” she says, not necessarily asking, but her tone rising at the end with only a hint of uncertainty. “I’d prefer to get things in writing, so I don’t forget what the terms were,” a small lie, one that she normally pulls off well due to her demeanour. She wanted things in writing because oaths break a lot easier if not set in at least parchment. The few times she’s had them set in literal stone were also very binding dealings. “If it’s not a recipe or how to properly set a toy’s arm back in place, or birthdays, my memory is fleeting.”

“I can do milk or tea: I think milk shall be the choice though, at this time of night; one moment.” Alicia exited the main room and disappeared into a number of cupboards, accidentally knocking things onto the floor like boxed foods and a few bits of cutlery. Eventually she pulled out two glasses of milk: one normal sized one and another, much smaller glass, before pouring the milk. “I would have told you if you were an inconvenience, Draza: Your desire for a contract is understandable, I like to think of myself as shrewd, if nothing else: and you appear to be equally so.” bringing both glasses over, she plopped them onto the table and sauntered off in search of some parchment and some ink. “It is times like this that I miss my home, where do you call home, lady Draza?” she kept rummaging around in various corners of the room, trying to locate the paper that she’d either misplaced or simply buried under her other belongings.

“Shrewd, but not rude Lady Alicia,” Draza piped in with only a bit of a possible interruption, keeping her volume low. She took the glass and raised it respectfully before bowing and taking a seat at the table, “Thank you, Lady Alicia; I’m from Rheinfeld, the Republic one at this time, although I was originally from the union of all of it, a small village far from most of the bustle… and well, things change and I’m here now. For now, I think this castle is my home.”

She called back to the small fae-folk, still buried in a cupboard, looking for the blasted parchment. She should really ask Jacque to tidy this place. “Rheinfeld: I will admit, I have spent very little time there. It would be safe to say I am not welcome in those l-Ah-hah!” She triumphantly lifts up a piece of blank parchment, as well as an inkwell and a quill. The entire lot had been put together, as if once part of an organised bundle. “A contract then; do you wish to do the writing then? Perhaps it will ease you of any loopholes or trickery I might include.” she smiles at the woman, before sliding the inkwell to the fairy, with quill inside. Truth be told, the vampire loathed contract writing. She had written so many lengthy trade agreements in the decade since inheritance that her wrist wanted to cramp up at the mere thought of writing a document.

Draza smiled, wryly, “I would be glad to write it, if you can read my script,” she giggled. It was a fancy of her time in diplomacy, small hands could write fine print unlike most others, a skill that she sometimes had to use with very complicated contracts before, but here? It’d just save Alicia on some parchment. “So, will we be doing measurements before, or after? May I inspect the quality of the silk, and of prior tailorings of it? Work out a style, or at least see enough to trust you to wow me when I put it on and do a practice spin in front of a mirror?” she giggled, “Oh, and colours, and, oh do you do frills well? They’re difficult according to most for my frame to scale down, you need fingers so nimble… and fibre so pure.”

The excitable barrage of questions brought a wider grin to her lips, and she even let out a small giggle. “It has been a long time since I met someone so genuine and enthusiastic about a dress. I can show you a number of my own dresses, if that suits you: the quality of design and silk will be very similar. As for colour, I’m sure I can procure some dye here in Renalta. The frills will be a challenge, due to your size, but what is life without a few challenges, hmm?” she smirks at herself as she plucks the glass from the table and sips at it, happy with the way things were going. She didn’t know why she wanted to hoard favours so much, but it seemed wise at the time. She was sure that having a fae owe you a favour was worth more than a few coins, to say the least.

Draza was already writing out the initial details on the arrangement, namely very plain clauses to get out for both parties if things go awry. She could have tried to make it only for her, but that would have been mean of her. Besides, she’s wanting a friend out of this, and shouldn’t be too overtly distrusting. “I’d like to see both dresses and the material itself if that’s okay!” she added with a bit of chipper to her tone. More so than normal, even. She was having fun… writing a dress purchase and favour contract.

Basic agreements were written, namely her getting to investigate the silk with as many of her senses as she wished. In other dealings with tailors and weavers she had learned to ask for a sample of the silk or fibre, too small for even utility for her, as a token of competence. She’d later compare the the thread to those used in the dress, or other use (typically standards and flags, or tablecloths and napkins), to see if quality was up to standards. While she didn’t want to be too distrusting, that clause was included as well.

“Erm, I know the staple length of silk is rather long, and cutting it is… not ideal but if you happened to have a micron of excess for me to have as a token of our working together too, that’d be just lovely,” Draza said with a smile, “Less waste and a keepsake, good for all. Plus,” she sighed with a bit of a playful huff, “Quality assurance. Habit from buying napkins en masse for parties, you check the thread count, you check everything If you can’t rub it against your face and purr, it’s not the finest for a gala like this, no?”

Alicia felt a genuine surprise at the precise measure of the contract. The fact that Draza was being more competent than most merchants she had dealt with in the past was probably the first indicator as to why the fae had been chosen for the Queen’s blades. It was comforting to know that she was having an opportunity to make a deal with the fae while she held at least some of the upper hand: Draza was imposing on her, after all, which meant that Alicia had a bit of leeway. Were the situation reversed, Alicia dreaded to think what power the fae might have as a bargain-er or a politician. “I can produce the dress for you now. The silk is still being unpacked, I didn’t expect to require any so soon. It is a good thing that others have not been as swift as you, or I’d think the quantity of silk I’d brought with me insufficient.”

The vampire slowly rises from her seat, having drained most of the milk, and she moved towards the long, closed wardrobe. It was a person sized thing, and as she opened the door she revealed it housed a full-length mirror. Taking a moment, she plucked a particular dress from the rack, a long, flowing blue dress with a slit in the right side, for bearing the leg. “This is one of the dresses I’ve decided against for this ball.” She lays the dress flat against the bed, allowing the beautiful garment to take up half her sleeping space. “Take your time and examine the quality, perhaps while I read the contract, assuming it is done.”

Draza looked at the dress and audibly gasped, “Ooooh, that looks so, er,” she stopped at the mention of the contract’s state of completion, “Not done yet, I’m afraid, but enough is written to cover this particular instance.” Draza set aside her writing before moving over to more closely investigate the garment, carefully treating it with her fingers, “It’s beautiful, do you dye prior to spinning, how many ply, oh the craftsmanship is superb, do you make it in house yourself or, oooooooh look at the lacework here…” her comments bounced between asking questions about the work, and complementing the work rather quickly.

“I’m glad you appreciate the work. I must admit, I only have a hand in the dresses designs: Jacque is the man who does the actual work. He is a very useful manservant, to be sure. He could likely procure himself a job away from my side, yet he owes me a small debt which I always assure him he has repaid twice over.” She smirks at the memory of Jacque and her first meeting. It was a far simpler time, before she was a vampire and when she had only just become the last member of her line...strange times indeed.

She examined what was complete of the contract and nodded with an approving smile. So far, the contract had been as evenly weighted as she could hope: considering the judicious nature of her new found client. The only thing that truly concerned her was just how small the fae’s writing was. “Perhaps we should move on to the design of the dress itself? Have you any ideas, thus far?”

“Well,” Draza began, “I usually don’t like uni-taskers, clothes being no exceptions. Is your silk from worms, caterpillars, spiders, or something else? I’d like it to be more like two set pieces, each containing their own pieces of the dress if possible. Given how things have gone so far, anything that’s too… flowy and stuff, too loose?” she said, still tracing her fingers over the material of the example, “I’d like it if that would be attached with weaker seams. Not enough that a snag would take it apart, but if I’m running and someone stomps on my skirt that I won’t just poof over on the side.”

Draza gave a small cough, “But if you’re talking about design for the dress’ appearance, I usually look good in sunrise colours and warmer tones.”

Alicia is taken aback by the intensity of the fae. She spoke up about her desires so rapidly and so fluently that once again, the vampire was glad that she was not dealing with a regular merchant, and instead was talking with someone who wanted a favour. Alicia reached for a second piece of parchment and grabbed a pencil, before she started to sketch. “So a two-piece dress with light connecting seams. I must admit, I don’t understand: is flow-ee good or bad here?”

“Oh not just two pieces, but almost two garbs bound at the seams? The inner dress will be far more practical for movement, no good grab points, and I can run really really really really really,” she repeats that word, “Really fast away from the bad things. The Bad things that I really really don’t want to happen but after the whole… well, y’know, I figure better safe than sorry.”

“But!” she adds, suddenly chipper at fullness again, “The lighter, flowing, nicer dress that extends from it is just like a normal dress, or…” she ponders, “Pieces of one? Attached to the under ‘safety’ dress. So if all’s fine, I look great, if the manure hits the aqueduct, well, safety dress!”

Alicia nods as she listens in on Draza as her hands move to sketch long lines and smooth, gentle curves. She was working on drawing the fae herself, and had drawn the torso already before she started to detail the dress itself: a slightly lower neck; a slit on both sides that made movement easier, up to the knee; shorter sleeves, as well as a set of elbow length gloves to give the illusion of a full dress. “It has just occurred to me that Jacque is going to likely threaten resignation once I tell him your measurements.” Alicia chuckles at the thought, clearly finding it to have joke-like qualities, even if she seemed deadly serious about the situation. “Feel free to carry on with the contract while I work on the…” she clears her throat. “...Safety dress.”

Alicia spent a few minutes sketching more fine details onto the dress itself, as well as Draza. Once happy enough with the first draft, she stands up and places the sketch next to the example dress on the bed, for Draza to examine at her leisure. “Take a peek: the fact that you are having an under-dress means that this is the most important aspect. Not wanting to be a braggart, but a long, flowing dress in summer colours is not going to be difficult, for Jacque or myself.”

Draza took the sketch, and sat down with it aside the contract, quill in her hand as she investigated the finer details, “Hmmm,” she sighed ponderously, twirling the quill before it landed at the last line of the contract, “Your sketchwork is exquisite, and I can’t wait to see the dress in full, and proper mockups at that,” both details that she began to idly include in the contract. “What’s the Bradford count of your silk line? How much stress could it be put under? How much oooh it really is soft. You know, that’s actually a bit hard to do for someone of my size, Everything feels so much more rough than it does for others, I hear.” Draza’s rambling slows down into a nice pleasant hum as she rubs the garment against her cheek, “But this…” she sighs, “If you can make a garb in such detail with such fineness, I do not think I’d mind a favour; you’re truly doing me one for even entertaining the idea.”

“The Bradford count is used for wool, but not silk.” Alicia smiled at Draza, glad to see that the Fae was, for lack of a better word, human. It was gratifying to see the faults of an individual, because perfection was simply boring.

“Oh, I knew… that… yeah,” Draza said quietly to herself. What a little liar.

“I will make sure to pass on your appreciation of his work to Jacque: it might convince him to actually take up the dress, instead of resigning.” Alicia hums happily as she begins sketching the dress itself. For the second sketch, she avoids sketching the figure of the fae, not requiring it for looser garments. “I didn’t ask, but is there any style you particularly want to emulate? A high-necked Liverian dress perhaps or maybe something with a scarf, such as the Tulerian party goers prefers?”

“A scarf?” Draza echoed back, “Scarves are very pretty, but I… don’t know,” she twisted her face into a bit of a pout, “I don’t know how well that’d… oh!” her face brightens as normal, “There’s a scarf like neck fade you could do, it looks wrapped but it’s actually sewn into the back. I’m not much a fan of that style, though. I usually only do something like that when it’s a more direct meeting with Tulerians, and this ball…” her voice trailed, “I think it may be in my best interests to emulate most closely the courtly styles of Renalta.”

Draza paused, before speaking again, her eyes going up into nothingness and back to her work, “While it’d be more comfortable for me to do something like my dear home, I do want to show that I’m not just of that land.”

“The glory of Renaltan style is it is so very cosmopolitan: much like its people, it seems. I can incorporate a bit of your Rheinfeld roots and fuse it with a bit of Renaltan flair. It will be nice to introduce some colour to their boring, conservative attire.”

Draza giggled, excited about working on the dress in such detail. She’d have to recommend Alicia to those back in… er, wait, she’d not exactly be keenly welcomed there. She humphed and turned to the contract that she’d been idly writing on through the whole conversation. The parchment had started mostly empty, but by now, margins aside, it was practically full. Full in her own little tiny font. Various words, seemingly at random according to only a casual glance, were enlarged for some sort of emphasis, and there were places to sign, initial, date, and for even witnesses to sign. She didn’t actually recall including the bit about witnesses, it was likely just a habit for her while so distracted.

She hadn’t the time to read all she wrote through at this time, but she figured better safe than sorry, in more ways than just the dress, and quickly added a clause that would render the necessity of a witness unnecessary given specific circumstances. Circumstances that involved specific ink dating methods she knew of and a professional post-documentation witness to attest to their agreeing that a witness not being necessary. She’d have to get that settled in more official capacities than she could do here.

Otherwise, the document was rather fair, it’d just take a lot of reading over. At the very worst, it gave Draza a slight advantage, partially for the size of the font for clarity’s sake, and it being slightly easier for her to have an out from the favour and dress through a series of stipulations that would be a lot of effort to actually get to work in Renaltan court systems due to their basis upon older international laws that are not necessarily always followed de jure. Otherwise, fairly even. Or so she’d hope.

Draza looked from the dress sketches, to the contract, and back to Alicia… before shaking her hand, “Owwww, I wrote too much,” she whined, the soreness in her wrist apparent from the amount of script alone.

Alicia glanced at the lengthy contract with its only-just-legible font and she sighed. “If you ever find yourself out of work, I could do with someone this skilled at contract-work. Perhaps it is a knack, but I can tell when a contract is well constructed because I lose all motivation to read it.” She sighs, before looking over her sketch again, actually quite happy with the end result. It was form-fitting, without being form-hugging, and it allowed free movement, without sacrificing style.

Perhaps this ‘safety dress’ thing could catch on, after all.

“I think the next step is going to be measurements. I’ll need to factor in the under-dress when designing the more standard attire: It may require a bit of additional room, so as to avoid being uncomfortable. Do you know your measurements or do I need to find my tape measure?”

Draza looked down at herself, and gave a sheepish grin and shrug, “I knew my measurements before I joined these Blades, but I think I’ve lost some of myself in all the travels again. Soon I’ll be back to my Templar Measurements, whatever those were.” She shook her head, “We’ll need the measure, I hope it’s accurate.”

Alicia nodded, before walking over to the pile of Jacque’s belongings and procuring his tape measure. The fact that she was so intimately involved with the dress-making process was a rarity, to be sure: but she was admittedly enjoying it. It had felt like the entirety of the last decade had been dedicated to paperwork and balls. So rare was it that she got to practice the art of sketching and design that she worried she’d have forgotten how. Like riding a horse though, it remained ingrained in her.

She paused for a second, remembering the perilous state of her wealth back in Liveria. Would she be able to return to her farms and her fortune? If not, perhaps practicing this dress making talent would be more important.

She shook away the momentary worry, before leaning over to the fae. “Now then, I’d like to measure a few things: your height, waist size, leg length, arm length and bust.” Alicia motioned for the fae to stand up straight, so that she might go about getting the measurements. As she first tried to measure the fae, she realised the scope of her task, as the lines and measurements on the tape were obviously intended for someone that stood taller than her waist. She had to get down onto her knees in order to properly get the first measurement: Draza’s height. “Just under a foot and a half...45 centimetres; no, just below that.” She jotted something onto the incomplete sketch of the over-dress, despite how these measurements were relevant for the under-garment.

“This is not uncomfortable for you?” She looked over at Draza, trying to practice the more gentle approach that would have been shown by a craftsman to her, if it were Alicia getting measured.

Draza shrugged, “It’s erm,” she coughed to clear her throat, “It’s fine, yeah. I know I’m a handful, but fortunately on the account of my being so small, I’m only one handful.”

Alicia laughed lightly, a surprised little chortle at the sudden turn of humour. “Good, good. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit heavy-handed, I am not so commonly the worker, more often the worked upon.” Alicia seemed to enter a state of concentration as she targeted the other required measurements: Arm length was first, 17.9 cm; then the leg length, for a slightly longer 20.1; followed by the relatively wide waist width of 10.1 and hip measurement of 12.3, followed at last by the slow approach of bust. “I’m going to measure your bust now, are you ready?” She was once again, drawing on her own experience with tailors, who would always announce the deed. It was a non-factor here, but still...emulating proper tailors, as opposed to her self-practiced art, seemed like a better bet here.

With a deep breath to steady any of her body’s sway, Draza nodded with an exhale, “I’m ready.”

Alicia takes the measurement of the bust sans breasts, which was 11.6cm. The full bust added another 2.3 cm, which she noted down on the parchment. “Last, but not least, the chest itself.” She announced, going ahead with the final measurement of 2.3 cm. “and there we have it, one set of measurements sure to have Jacque ripping his hair out: what fun this shall be!” She stood up, smiling at the fae as she picked up the incomplete dress sketch, now complete with jotted measurements. She started to consider how much extra to add, before deciding to leave that to the manservant. She had already thought of some ideas for the dress itself, which she started scribbling onto the parchment.

“Shall we then, sign the contract?” Draza said, moving over to the filled parchment of legalese and sliding it over to Alicia, “Or would you er… like a chance to read it first?”

“I think that, in light of this all: I’m going to elect to trust you with the contract. What I read seemed fair, and I hardly imagine you plan to cheat me here. Consider it an act of faith, if you will.” Alicia almost extended a hand to shake, but quickly thought otherwise of the manoeuvre when she recalled the petite fae’s proportions. “I hope this is the beginning of a healthy alliance...nay, a friendship even. For what is friendship without a hint of trust?” Alicia signed the contract with nary a worry in the world. Perhaps it was the demeanour of Draza that made her so likeable, or perhaps it was her it was simply the fact she had won herself a favour from an extremely competent person, but the vampire was in a fine mood. Also the fact that the fae was unlikely to betray a person who could probably eat her, if she tried hard enough and it was certainly improbable that the fairy would desire to betray her.

“Glad to hear that you’re willing to trust me! We’re going to be comrades in arms, trust is good there, and even better for potential friendships beyond…” Draza signed her pieces of the contract as well, rolling it up and keeping it close. “I would be off for reasons of the contract and… like making sure that it’s actually binding? It’s complex, contracts are hard work. And I would be off to leave you to your work or leisure, but before then, I’ll have to ask,” she stood up and straightened herself, “Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime? Not as the contractual favour,” she assured, “But just as… possible friends? Oh and when’s your birthday? What type of cake do you like, what’s your favourite colour, do you like surprises, and do you like to dance?”

“You are an excitable one, aren’t you?” She giggled, hiding her mouth and, more importantly, her teeth. She wasn’t aware if her vampirism was widespread knowledge, so she wanted to keep it relatively under wraps. “How about this. On our next meeting, we can talk about birthdays and parties and such.”

Draza nodded up and down, “That will work, I suppose.” She gathered her things up, “So, until then, you have a wonderful time with your work and your friends and kin,” she said, punctuating it with a curtsy.

“I imagine the dress will be ready in two days. I will send Jacque along with it. I suppose you will be busy for the rest of the week, preparing for the ball?” She starts picking up various pieces of discarded parchment, inkwells, pencils and empty glasses, trying to clear a space so that she can continue with her work on the actual design. She had a much better chance of Jacque actually agreeing to this dress-work if he had a complete design to look at.

“Two days? I guess Jacque is both nimble and quick. I’ll look forward to its completion, but yes… I do have some things I need to attend to. Contractually speaking and otherwise,” she begins towards the door, “I’ll be in touch, and hopefully it’ll be a pleasure doing business with you.”

Alicia opened the door for a fae, before offering her a slight bow. “I do hope the dress will be to your liking, Draza: for the business has already proven pleasant.”
Liam's efforts to find a wall seemed to be entirely fruitless, until at long last his fingers did find a solid surface. It was either not-supernatural bullshit as it felt like a normal modern wall, or it was cleverly disguised to feel that way. With a little following it, he eventually stumbled to a source of light, however dim. Trailing past some doors he could finally see the exit, and could quickly surmise that the building hadn't necessarily been changed around him, just his perceptions of it, and simply following the wall intently had brought him out of it.
Cora's blind attempts at the buttons did eventually result in the door opening, into an actually lit section of the building. It looked otherwise much the same to how the section below did while lit, but it showed different numbers on the room doors that indicated that they were a... few stories up? Yes, they were on the first and these were clearly third floor numberings. Now, while this area was lit, it was still very poorly so, with only a few flickering lights every so often, although Cora and Kaya could both see that there was a cluster of them not far off, staying on clean and clear, near a room they couldn't see the number of.
Nova's panicked sounds were not met by anything normal, instead she she continued to freak the fuck out she could hear the hissing of snakes again. Getting so... very... close.
Jorick said some long talky shit that no one actually read


Y'know what? I'm just gonna second Jorick.
The next chamber was larger than it first seemed from within the hall, stretching about two or three times longer across the chamber than the hall was, about. The chamber was very tall, the top of it completely unseen as it stretched beyond comprehension towards the heavens, as diluted sunlight filtered down betwixt the flickering lights of torches that clung to the wall at regular intervals. This chamber was more a tower than a simple room.

Along the edge of the chamber was a walkway, stone floor flooded with water and an irregularly broken fence railing edged that as well, and spouting forth between the stretches of rail were columns holding the platform above up, and providing structure for vines. The railing had been there, to protect against what appeared would have been quite a fall if the water was not at its current level. The vast stretch across the middle of the chamber was mostly empty, save the water the flooded it. While the waters were not crystal clear by any stretch, one could easily look down and see the same walkway and railing below it, and another, and another, and another. The same as above stretching on unto the heavens and the abyss both at once.

Going forth from the chamber at six different angles were hallways, one of them being the one that each of the strangers woke within. Each hall was almost indistinguishable from the others, save an incredibly worn symbol carved in the stone above the entrance into each of them. An icon? An ancient script? It wasn’t clear, the stone faces were worn down, smoothened, their details lost to time.

Vegetation grew forth, sustaining itself upon the deep pool of the water for the most part, but having roots far below. The tops of trees broke the surface of the water at two points, and further below more drowned growth could be seen, aquatic forests and sunken tombs if the halls below had more of the stone chambers that they came from. Besides those growing from below, vines clung and grew into whatever narrow grooves and cracks and holes in the stone that they could. Small flowers grew on narrow frail branches into the rare shades of light from above, and thicker vines sprawled across the ground and ceiling, some hanging over the edge and connecting the fence to the one above it.

There was the call of a bird, somewhere above, a solitary caw. The fluttering of feathers, and the feeling of eyes on the skin. This civilized structure had a full ecosystem within it, plants, bugs, birds, rats. A keen eye would even see fish in the waters, and a nervous ear would hear the hiss of a snake somewhere from within the crag holes of the walls where vines had not yet wormed their way.

There was a seventh archway, present on each level, but it apparently led only into a shallow dead end. It was flanked by stairs up and down, permitting one to climb up at that point before circling the perimeter to whatever hall they wished. The one level with the water and the strangers was two ways over along the right wall, the path down on their own side, the way up on the other.

At least, that’s where it would be.

It seemed that some of the way above had crumbled at some point, and crashed down into the stairs beneath them. The easy way up from this floor was shut, and the way down required some serious lungs.
Herzinth said
let's get kinda hype


yeah!
So...

I minecrafted real good

Found this long ass walkway

Ended up in some tracks

Poorly lit, confusing side tunnels that overlapped and shit

Kept going

More poorly lit railway stuff, frequently dark

Eventually end up in Arxis

Arxis is sweet looking

Look at the light levels

Holy shit this place is gonna need a lot of torches if I ever visit it again
David <3
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